


DEAR STAR SYSTEM

by creative_frequency



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Rating May Change, Romance, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22091431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creative_frequency/pseuds/creative_frequency
Summary: “Your boundless optimism is terrifying,” you assert and step closer to see better what he is doing to the electrosword. “Is there any hope to fixing it?”Cal chuckles. “What did you just say about myboundlessoptimism? Yeah. I think so.”You poke your elbow to his ribs and try to hold back a wavering grin. BD chirps at you.Cal works with the electrosword as you watch from next to him, arms almost brushing together when he moves. Cal seems genuinely happy to be tinkering and you’ve completely forgotten your original intention of following the repairs to see how he does it. The new objective is to determine how often istoo oftento glance at his smiling face.After searching for months, the Mantis' crew finds a Jedi hiding on Bracca. The new acquaintance is not what you expected and he leads you to wonder how selfish are you allowed to be.A story from your point of view as a part of Cal's journey to restore the Jedi Order.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Reader
Comments: 45
Kudos: 179





	1. // 01

**“On Bracca?”** you repeat and jump on the cockpit chair. You catch a flash of the serious look on Cere’s face.

“We need to go _now_ ,” she urges the ship’s captain and pilot, Greez Dritus.

Greez’s four arms are working in triple speed, a forgotten Salthia bean muffin in one of them. Greez absolutely _hates_ crumbs and the cockpit of the Mantis is food-forbidden area, but this is a more pressing matter than a muffin.

A Jedi – detected hiding on Bracca. The Imperial Inquisitors are already on the move and so should your small crew if you are to reach the Jedi first.

//

The first glimpse you catch of _him_ is dirt and flaring ginger hair.

Cere tells him to keep moving until you’re able to pick him up. You’re trying to pace Greez from freaking out. There is too much going on, including a moving train, Imperial troopers everywhere, several TIE fighters and a few Inquisitors flying around. You wish you could say it’s just another day saving the galaxy but you’re likely at least half as scared shitless as Greez, and he’s handling the Mantis expertly.

If you get through this, you really need to start complimenting him more often.

The Jedi is on the move. An Imperial fighter zooms past you and, no matter how much Cere yells, it drops an explosive on the train, making it break in half and derail. The train’s roof turns into a slide.

“Front of the train!” you shout and point to where the Jedi will inevitably fall down

Greez steers the Mantis as close as he dares.

The drawbridge is open and the Jedi catches the edge. Before you can run to see if there’s any way you can help, he has already fallen down and the whole ship is shaking from the incoming Imperial fire. Greez curses heavily.

“He fell!” Cere shouts. You help her inside.

“Go down!” You try to peer below in the rain, to see any movement – or a couple of flashing lightsabers, a red and a blue one. A classic showdown but it’s not one of those days when you want to meet an Imperial Inquisitor.

“Shoot!” you scream so that Greez jolts and grabs the gun control. He blasts the Inquisitor, effectively separating the lightsaber fight.

Cere opens the drawbridge again. “Get on board!”

The Jedi scrambles up from the smoking ground, clearly injured and clutching his lightsaber. Cere pulls him inside and throws him right into your open arms when he tries to stay dallying by the doorway.

The poor guy looks like a scazz hit with a flash bomb. He is wet from the rain, dirty and shaking from the adrenaline. He barely meets your eyes before taking a broad distance and lighting up his weapon.

“Captain!”

It’s your signal to leave Bracca.

Cere slams the button and just as the ship doors close, the Inquisitor’s lightsaber leaves a molten slash on the metal.

Another thing Greez won’t be happy about.

The Jedi stares at you for a fleeting second, lightsaber in tow and ready, and sprints to the cockpit to see the Second Sister slam against the windshield. She uses the Force to wrestle control of the ship from Greez and the Mantis starts to spin recklessly. All warning sounds burst into a chaotic song and you try to hold on for your life and not bump into the blue lightsaber. _Someone_ is going to get an earful about flight safety later.

Cere leaps forward and turns the steering wheel briskly. The Second Sister falls off the ship.

For a couple of short breaths, everyone waits. No one dares to put the collective thought of “ _did we really make it?”_ out there. Greez and Cere look at each other before he gets up and pulls the handle down. The Mantis jumps into hyperspace, to safety.

The Jedi withdraws his weapon at Greez’s behest and you finally risk taking a heavy breath.

_Cal Kestis_ , he introduces himself. Cere explains the situation as best as she can and as far as she believes is required. Cal keeps rolling his right shoulder, flinching and grinding his teeth as he paces back and forth behind the holotable. His eyes skip between the three of you constantly, still wary and considering the possibility that he isn’t completely safe.

None of you can blame him. He’s been on the run for years to have survived this far. The encounter with the Inquisitor just cut all ties to his runaway life and made him a known fugitive.

“How do you know so much?” Cal asks, still slightly out of breath, “And why’d you help me?”

“We track Imperial communications. We heard the Inquisitors were heading to Bracca,” Cere says calmly, “So we made our move.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the bounty on Jedi these days anyway?” Cal asks in a menacing tone and looks at you on his left side.

“That’s gratitude for ya,” Greez states in a blaming tone, pointing at Cal. Cere sends a silencing look the pilot’s way.

“Look, I get it,” she continues, “You’ve been surviving on your own for so long that it’s impossible to trust anyone. And it’s what’s kept you alive.”

The experience of every surviving Jedi is different but when it comes to staying alive and under the radar, Cere knows what she’s talking about. What she says makes you think back to when you first hopped aboard the Mantis. Your situation was nowhere near as bad as the Jedi’s, but Cere has a way of bringing people together; giving, if not hope, then at least a direction.

Cal doesn’t look convinced.

“But this is about something bigger… Than just surviving,” Cere says. Her voice takes an almost pleading tone.

“Like what?” Cal asks, mildly curious but guarded.

“Like rebuilding the Jedi Order.”

Cere lets the silence sit in. Cal stares at her incredulously, trying to find the words.

“You three?” he questions quietly, scared of giving purchase to hope, “Anybody else?” He looks around as if to see more people in the ship. You notice the way his eyes enliven despite himself and already feel bad for what he’s going to learn next.

“Oh, we’re not good enough for you?” Greez bridles in his usual way.

“The Jedi Council?” Cal asks carefully and looks at Cere. A small shine of hope sparks in his eyes.

She cannot reply.

You step forward, hands folded on your chest and say: “They’re gone.”

Cere nods slightly in accord.

“Oh… So I’m all you’ve got.” Cal’s gaze sinks to the floor from you, disappointed. All those distant dreams about someone restoring the Order, while he works as a rigger on Bracca, are shattered. He knew things were bad but that didn’t stop him from hoping, somewhere deep inside in a place that was never to see daylight. Not that there was much daylight on Bracca anyways.

Your weight shifts from one foot to another, waiting for Cere to say something. She inhales deeply.

“Captain. Set a course for Bogano.”

“Aye, aye.” Greez steps back into the cockpit.

“In the meantime… Try and relax,” Cere says to Cal in a comforting tone. She motions towards the lounging area. “Go. You’re safe. For now,” she adds and goes after Greez.

Cal is left standing awkwardly in front of you, looking like a lost puppy. His ginger hair and dark blue clothes are dripping wet from the rain, covered in soot and the occasional dash of blood. He looks pale and as miserable as can be. You feel genuinely bad for him. He’s still inconspicuously rolling the shoulder.

“Does it hurt?” You nod towards his right arm.

“Uh, it’s nothing,” he replies instantly and lets go of it. The adrenaline is dying down and the pain gets more invasive with every heartbeat.

“Sit down. I’ll find you a stim.” You leave to dig through the containers, watching from the corner of your eye as Cal tentatively sits by the table and looks around him. If Greez dares to complain about wet stains on the sofa, you’ll eat him alive.

The Mantis is not large but it has everything you need. Though, you will be one cabin short now that your crew is expanded into four members.

“Here.” You hand the healing stim to Cal and sit a respectable distance away from him. Even the freckles dotting his skin look pale. He must be hurting.

Cal nods hesitantly and mumbles thanks before injecting it into his shoulder.

“Better?”

“Yeah, better.”

An awkward silence falls. You don’t want to push him into talking if he doesn’t feel like it. Greez and Cere are arguing about the Inquisitors in the cockpit. How to avoid them better. How to stay better informed on their moves. It’s a conversation you don’t want Cal to hear so soon after what happened.

He clears his throat and glances at you, trying to avoid staring. From what he can gather, you’re a human with no visible affiliations. Probably a bit older than him. He gets a very mixed feeling about you but that might be because he’s been used to pushing the Force down and not using it. It feels… _odd_ to try to lean on it now. Like using a regained limb.

On top of it all, he’s afraid of breaking that limb again.

“How’d you get here?” Cal asks to push the surfacing thoughts away. He takes another glance at you. This time it lasts longer.

“Not nearly as fashionably as you. Less explosions,” you reply and flash him a smile that’s hopefully friendly.

He huffs, an almost chuckle, and you feel him relaxing just a little. His shoulder has stopped twitching and he looks more at you than the floor.

“I ran into Cere and decided I want to do something with my life,” you say.

“You weren’t a Jedi, were you? Or somehow related to the Order?” Cal’s voice finally loses the high alert undertone.

“Nah, nothing like that. I had… other engagements,” you explain vaguely.

Cal really wants to ask but decides he doesn’t meet the requirements to unlock your possibly tragic past. Not yet. Why would you even want to open up to a stranger you just met. He just needs something else to think about than what he just went through. Bracca is already far behind, both in distance and his life.

“There’s a free bed in the back if you’d like to rest,” you say and get up from the sofa. Cere and Greez have agreed to disagree and Cal looks a bit more at ease.

“Yeah, thanks.”


	2. // 02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mantis lands on Bogano. Greez is very particular about his eggs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still getting into the Star Wars lingo, so if there’s any words/terms/slang etc. you think sound off or know a more canon-ish counterpart, please don’t hesitate to let me know! This is the first time I’m actually writing for Star Wars fandom despite loving it for so long.

**During the years you’ve known Cere,** you’ve never seen her playing an instrument. There must be a reason she keeps those things around the ship, often gazing at them longingly or sitting still with one on her lap. When she does, that sad, almost haunted look befalls on her. You’ve never had the courage to ask about it. It’s too personal.

Something invades your mind, twining to the aerial calculations of a piercing weapon’s throw line. The imaginary blade disappears mid-air as your focus shifts. You turn to the side on the bed.

_A sound. Background noise. Music?_

At first, you think it’s inside your head but before you can concentrate on listening, it stops. It’s silent again but your earlier thoughts are lost to curiosity.

Cere and Cal are sitting by the round table, talking in low voices. One of her musical instruments is leaning to the table, confirming that the chords you heard weren’t just imagination. The tone of their conversation is somber _aka_ something you don’t want to accidentally eavesdrop. But before you can take even a step to go back, Cere’s familiar words command your attention, coming through loud and clear and hitting home on your end too:

“And you’re not alone. Not anymore,” Cere reassures the young Jedi and places a hand onto his shoulder.

You hesitate by the door, to make your presence be known or to withdraw back into your cabin.

You know something about the situation Cal is in. His old life is behind, all ties severed and while for you it still might be possible to go back, it definitely isn’t for him. Fairly certainly neither of you _wants_ to go back.

Greez’s voice cracks over the comms, saving you from a decision on which direction to move:

“ _We’re comin’ up on our destination._ ”

Cal bolts up and heads to the cockpit with resolute steps. Cere’s hand stays hanging in the air where his shoulder was before she follows him and you wait for a moment or two before going after them. You’ve arrived on Bogano.

//

“How do you think he’ll do?” you ask Greez in the cockpit, both of you watching Cal’s retreating back into the grassy planes.

Greez shrugs and makes an indifferent “ _meh_ ” sound. “I just hope whatever he does, he does it _fast_.”

He stretches three of his arms and scratches his belly with the fourth. It’s lunch time and yesterday’s scraps will make an excellent omelet with some gartro eggs.

“But not too fast, am I right?” you comment, knowing what the Latero has on his mind. The eggs are a Coruscantean delicacy Greez has been treasuring for some time. And he isn’t into sharing his eggs with some random Jedi kid.

“Have faith,” Cere remarks just as she steps back inside. The ship doors close with a sizzle. The plating carries the scar from the Second Sister’s lightsaber and Greez has been silently going mental about repairing it.

“What’d he say?” you turn to ask Cere. They exchanged words outside before Cal took off.

She holds a mysterious smile. “He’s out there and that’s enough for now.”

Her often frustrating Jedi-ism deserves a dramatic sigh. “Somehow I knew you’d say that.”

You plop to sit down on the sofa next to her, subjecting yourself to Cere’s sharp, inspecting look. Idly, you inspect the instrument leaning against the table. It has seven strings. The design is simple, yet the materials used look polished and expensive. It has seen better days. You wonder does Cal know how to play or was it really Cere earlier.

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“I’m asking how you are,” she clarifies with a strained smile.

You think about replying since you’re not doing so badly at the moment, but just shrug and move on. There are more interesting things to discuss.

“He”–you nod towards the exit–“seems like a decent person,” you say casually.

“Yes, he does,” Cere agrees.

You’re not sure what to make of Cal yet. He keeps a lot inside, hidden to protect himself, or maybe others. On the outside he’s an upright person whose features would be a better fit for a smile than any expression you’ve seen him wearing so far. It’s also been a while since you met another human about your age even though your lives so far couldn’t be more different. It’s probably biasing your judgment.

Also that he’s kind of cute. You didn’t think you were into gingers.

“Secretive, but that’s a Jedi thing, right? One of those with lots of layers you can’t quite reach,” you say and add, “Not that I tried.”

Cere’s smile turns into a warning look. When she took you under her wing, you agreed to not play your tricks just for a show.

“I heard what you said about trusting him and I agree,” you continue despite her, “but my _gut_ is telling me he’s okay. And he isn’t gonna open up until we can trust each other. All of us.”

Greez is busy with his eggs in the kitchen nook and is, at least seemingly, not paying attention to your discussion.

“I think your _gut feeling_ may well be right,” Cere says after a moment and reveals that annoying knowing smile.

“If you say anything about the Force, I’ll throw you with one of Greez’s eggs.”

“Hey! This is non-negotiable: _My eggs are off limits!_ ”

You and Cere laugh. Whatever Greez is cooking, smells delicious. He prides himself in being an able cook but you’ve never had the heart to tell him when he doesn’t succeed so well. He almost single-handedly takes care of the catering aboard the Mantis and that’s enough reason to pinch your nose and keep your culinary opinions to yourself. The Laterons like their spices in weird mixes.

“Any thoughts, Greez?” Cere inquires.

Greez _humphs,_ again, as is quickly growing into his norm when talking about Cal Kestis. For some reason it makes you smile.

“Saw him pawing at the grass the moment you turned your back. _Hmph_. What a weirdo… and he was talking in his sleep.”

“He was?” Greez grimaces at your surprised glance. Guess you shouldn’t be surprised to hear an escapee Jedi suffers from nightmares.

“Yeah, you didn’t hear that? The kid was yelling a name… Prof or Praf or, I don’t know! Something. Why’re you both looking at me like that?” Greez spreads one pair of hands in frustration. The other pair stays with the eggs.

You turn back at Cere, excited words on your lips.

“No,” she says deftly before you can even open your mouth.

“But I can help him,” you argue right back, “That’s not showing off. Let me be helpful for once.”

Cere sighs. “You know I can’t stop you if you ask him and he agrees to it, but _please_ , learn to know him first.”

You slump deeper into the couch, sulking like a child. You both know you don’t need permission from her but you respect Cere too much to act behind her back. Ever since learning of your talents, that she persistently claims to fall under Force-sensitivity (yeah, right), she has been wary, constantly warning you about how influencing the mind can have devastating effects. It’s hard to argue against that since in your previous life the subjects usually didn’t live long enough to experience side-effects.

“I understand… I just want to help,” you mumble.

Cere takes your hand and squeezes it lightly. “I know you do. Let’s discuss this later.”

She doesn’t let go until you nod.

While Cal is out, there’s not much you can do besides pester Greez about some omelet and wait until finally the comm device cracks into life. Traveling in hyperspace is _dull_ but at least you’re moving. You’ve always hated the waiting game. It’s the first time you realize you’re not as patient as you thought you were. Saying it aloud amuses Cere.

The comm snaps and Cere hurries to the control desk – you right at her heels.

“ _Think I found what you wanted me to see_.”

“ _Be-bee-boop?_ ” a familiar-sounding droid replies confused.

So that’s why Cere sent Cal on wild bogling hunt on Bogano. It starts making sense. You’re trying to keep your nose out of the Jedi business, often just offering understanding hums when Cere wants to talk your ear off. Fortunately, she has a fresh set of ears now in Cal.

Cere smiles relieved. “Sounds like you did. We’ll be waiting.”

“Finally!” Greez rejoices. All the gartro eggs are long gone and who knows when is the next time he can procure such delicacies.

It doesn’t take long for the Jedi to track back to the ship with his new friend.

“You passed the test,” Cere welcomes him.

“So you knew about BD-1?” Cal points to the droid on his back, who twitters in excitement.

“Come on board, we’ll talk inside.”

Cal is positively radiating. Sunshine and fresh air did some good to him. The shadow you first met is gone and he is relaxed, smiling. Your heart is fluttering from relief. You were right about his features being better suited for a smile than a frown.

Greez freaks out when BD-1 jumps on his precious potolli-weave fabric sofa and you swear it’s the last time you’re staying behind when Cal treks out. Based on what he learned about some Jedi master on Bogano, he will have to go and get his hands dirty again on another backwater planet.


	3. // 03

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First visit on Zeffo. Greez talks about his love life and Cal helps you with some repairs.

**“Ah, Zeffo. My favorite place,”** Greez says dreamily and relaxes in his pilot’s chair.

The Mantis takes off from Bogano soil and you sit down, pretending to be focused on the map hovering on the holotable. Cal sits on the other side, equally preoccupied. You try not to look at him while knowing, _feeling_ , that he’s definitely taking glances at you. BD-1 hops over to the holotable to have a better look at the planet you’re heading to.

Before you can think of anything to say to Cal, Greez has a story to tell.

“When this is all over, I think it’ll be a time to settle down, you know?” he continues, “Fall in love, start a family.” He sounds like Zeffo is exactly the planet he wants to spend his retirement days on.

You bite your lip and see how confused Cal is trying to make sense of the Latero. Greez is in one of those moods again.

“Love? You?” Cere voices out in bafflement.

“Yeah? You think a guy like me doesn’t know love?” Greez retorts slightly dejected.

“I bet you’re going to tell me,” Cere says, smiling.

You have to hide your grin behind your hand. Cere hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing about Greez’s _adventures_ because she didn’t join you on that cantina trip on Tatooine. Cal gets up to lean to the cockpit doorway to hear better and even BD-1 turns around to listen and tilts his head.

Greez told you the story before after one too many and some bad situational judgment. There was someone he called the Baroness. You know it’s a fake name since she is still in politics. Wouldn’t have been much work in your previous occupation to dig out who the lady was, but you respect Greez’s privacy – despite your burning curiosity.

As Greez described it, they were deeply in love but eventually her career came between them, driving the lovers apart. Greez played it out as his wanderlust getting in the way but it wasn’t difficult to guess what the reason was really. You also suspect she played an important role in his decision to, if not quit, then at least gamble less. But those were thoughts you would take with you to the grave.

“Let me tell ya. It’s the best, but a lot of work. It needs admiration, devotion, attraction, and respect,” Greez explains with a straight face.

Cal turns to silently ask you is he being serious, but you shake your head fervently.

Cere is surprised by the pilot’s words. “Greez, that’s actually very insightful.”

“Yeah, well. It comes with experience. You can’t look this good and not steal a few hearts.” He must look impossibly complacent. Probably the same as when Cere complements his cooking.

“I bet,” Cere chuckles.

Cal turns to shoot another confused look at you, unsure whether to laugh or offer his sympathies to Greez. He points at the pilot with his thumb and mouths “w _hat’s with him?_ ” to you.

Deeming it best to just bite your lip harder, you tap the seat next to you. Hopefully the pilot will stop talking and focus on flying. It’s best if Greez doesn’t realize you’re pulling faces behind his back, or hear the Jedi questioning his mental well-being.

Cal smiles at your invitational gesture and an unexpected delight splashes inside you.

Before he sits down – closer than you anticipated – you scan him with an inconspicuous measuring look. He seems to be holding up alright considering all things. If stories about Greez’s love life are what get him to relax, so be it.

“Is he always so…” Cal starts quietly but can’t find the word he’s looking for. BD-1 tilts his head. Luckily Greez can’t see the droid on the sofa, again.

“Yes,” you still reply deftly.

You both chuckle as silently as humanely possible, shoulders shaking. You end up realizing you’re staring at Cal’s face, tracing the freckles with your eyes and how they move with his inaudible laughter. It’s the umpteenth time you catch yourself doing that and your quickened pulse gets harder to ignore.

Greez informs you to sit down because you’re about to make the jump to hyperspace. It throws you off enough to calm down. He seems to be done with talking about his love life, for now.

“Have you ever been to Zeffo before?” Cal asks.

You clear your throat to get rid of the last ripples of the tender sensation in your stomach. In the back of your mind you pin the feelings on the jump into hyperspace.

“I haven’t actually. Have you?”

“Nope.” Cal leans back and you follow his line of sight to the holomap of Zeffo.

The hologram of the planet is mostly covered in deep blue and dark green. The white-covered heaps signal snow-tipped mountains and while you’re definitely not a fan of snow, you haven’t seen it in a long time. Zeffo is apparently known for its strong winds and as testimony to that, several huge cloud vortexes cover the map. For once, you’re glad that you don’t have to fly.

“You must be always visiting new places,” Cal says and there’s a hint of jealousy in his voice. BD-1 makes a comforting boop. Cal has been stuck on Bracca for years – partly because of his own decision, but in terms of Imperial presence and living conditions, it wouldn’t have been his first choice.

“Sadly, not so much,” you sigh, “Turns out, that in order to listen to Imperial transmissions, one must stay relative _close_ _to_ the Imps…”

“That’s… understandable. I’m glad you found me. Solid timing,” Cal mumbles and casts his gaze down. The small droid nudges his side.

“I’m actually from Coruscant,” you blurt out to prevent the awkward mood. “Probably wasn’t born there but it was my home for a long time.”

“Oh?” Cal blinks surprised. “Do you have any family?”

“No, well, besides the one I left behind.” You shrug to signal it wasn’t a big deal. It isn’t anymore. Just the factual outcome of your choice to go with Cere.

Cal doesn’t ask anything more and you mentally reprimand yourself for opening your mouth in the first place.

//

After Greez’s majestic landing on Zeffo despite the strong winds, there is a short dialogue between the Mantis crew on how to proceed. Cere is concerned but knows that time is of the essence. Greez vows he won’t set a foot outside the ship. You sigh and hope that everything will go alright. The storms are interfering with the ship comms and while it’s worrying, there is no time to waste. The Empire might be at your heels without you knowing it.

Cal runs a hand impatiently through his hair. The faster he goes out there, the sooner you can leave. He cannot afford to wait for the comms to start working again.

“I’ll search for signs of Cordova in the meantime,” he says, already turned to leave.

Cere nods. “Good, I’ll be in touch once I crack this.”

Cal heads out into the wind. You pace after him to see the snowy scenery. It’s been a while since you were anywhere with so much _winter_. And there isn’t even much by the galaxy’s standards. It’s common knowledge that there are planets covered in ice and snow but so far you’ve managed to avoid them. You’re not so eager to get out there with Cal anymore.

“Cal?” you call out as he stays to look around too. You landed on a seemingly abandoned settlement in the eye of the storm.

“Yeah?” He turns to you with a curious look and BD-1 peeps from over his shoulder.

To shield yourself from the weather, you hug your cardigan and hide your hands between your arms and sides. The air is brisk and cold. Cal is wearing a woolen poncho over his clothes and you didn’t think anyone could look good in a poncho. Must be a Jedi thing.

“Be careful out there. You’ll be alone until Cere fixes the communications.” You glance at the lightsaber resting by his thigh and the brave small droid on his back.

“I will. You should head back inside.” He sees you shivering. BD-1 boops in agreement.

“Oh. I was just about to offer to go with you,” you jest and smirk.

Cal’s brows rise. “Really?”

“Mmmaybe some other time or planet. Somewhere warm,” you chuckle and stop your teeth from clattering. The wind bites all the way through to your skin. “I’ll go help Cere. Take care… Cal.”

“Fwoo woo!” BD-1 wishes you good luck.

Cal watches you until the ship doors close. The corners of his lips persistently stay turned upward.

“Beep-boo boooop.”

“W-what?” Cal yelps at the droid’s cheeky suggestion, “No, I don’t.”

“Beep-bo.”

“Okay, just a little. It’s nice to have a friendly face around.”

BD-1 titters and shakes. Cal scoffs. The wind feels colder with you gone inside so he would best get moving.

//

After the eye of the storm, you manage to find a moment of peace. Cal and Cere have agreed on the next step of the quest to rebuild the Jedi Order. Everyone is somewhat relaxed, bellies full and eyelids drooping. Greez sits on the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, talking with Cere in low voice about whether to land on a large meteor so you all can rest. You’re trying to repair an electrosword on the workstation in the back and Cal leans on the railing next to you, watching as you work with a constant confused frown on your features.

He doesn’t know how to bring up his proficiency in tinkering and fixing things. BD-1 boops and chirps on the table, dancing around the spare parts you’ve gathered. You wish you could understand his commentary better but you’re not exactly fluent in Binary.

“So where did you get that?” Cal asks and tries to not look too much or eagerly over your shoulder.

“Hm? I bought it in the Corellian Sector.” You pause. “On Nar Shaddaa.”

Cal cocks an eyebrow. He didn’t take you for the type to hang out in places like that. BD tilts his head.

You place the obstinately broken electrosword on the table and turn to look at Cal with a serious expression. “There’s a black market for lightsabers. Among other things. I… Sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about that.” Your voice fades. How do you always end up saying the wrong thing with him?

Cal frowns lightly but his eyes stay on yours now that you’re facing him. “It’s okay,” he replies.

Cere sold the kyber crystal from her lightsaber on Nar Shaddaa. She asked you to act as the intermediary to avoid suspicion. The buyer, a delegate to some Hutt crime lord, apparently thought it hilarious to give you a broken electrosword into the bargain.

“Sorry,” you say again. That aching tender feeling is gaining foothold again and it’s getting annoying.

“Do you mind if I give that a try?” Cal nods towards the electrosword and straightens up from the railing.

“Be my guest.”

BD agrees heartily and from what you can understand, he thinks Cal is good at repairing things. You smile at the small droid and give room for Cal by the worktable.

The moment he touches the object, Cal visibly flinches. He squeezes his eyes closed as if under a migraine attack and his fingers spasm. Before you can properly realize something is wrong, the seizure stops and he lets the air out of his lungs in one heavy breath. Your heart is running rampant inside your ribcage.

You grab his arm to turn him towards you. He has gone pale.

“Cal? Cal? Are you okay?” you ask fervently, looking for signs of distress on his body.

Cal’s gaze swims before he can focus and bring a thin smile to his lips.

“Uh, yeah. I’m good. My bad,” he says and grimaces. You let go, slowly. He holds the electrosword up to inspect it better, acting perfectly normal again.

“Be-boop?” BD sounds concerned.

“I’m okay, BD. Really,” Cal assures the droid.

“What just happened?” you press, still a bit shaken.

Cal sees no point in hiding it. “I’m, well, psychometric. When I touch something, I may sense what’s happened to it.”

Your hands fly into the air and you stutter to find the words in a flush of anger, unable to believe that he would be so careless and reckless. “And you just touched an electrosword that’s been Force knows where,” you retort, not amused. You really want to give him an earful.

“Uh, yeah. Someone broke it on Nar Shaddaa.” Cal turns the electrosword around and finds a dent near the tip. “They didn’t last for long without it.” He talks in an even tone but the embarrassment shines through. His ears feel hot and he thinks you must consider him an idiot now.

You bite back the feral talking-to Cal is about to get and sigh. “That’s just horrible.”

Cal stays silent for a moment.

“At least I know you weren’t the one who broke it.” He smiles and you just stare the upward curve, baffled and blinking.

“Your boundless optimism is terrifying,” you assert and step closer to see better what he is doing to the electrosword. “Is there any hope to fixing it?”

Cal chuckles. “What did you just say about my _boundless_ optimism? Yeah. I think so.”

You poke your elbow to his ribs and try to hold back a wavering grin. BD chirps at you.

Cal works with the electrosword as you watch from next to him, arms almost brushing together when he moves. Cal seems genuinely happy to be tinkering and you’ve completely forgotten your original intention of following the repairs to see how he does it. The new objective is to determine how often is _too often_ to glance at his smiling face.

Cal finds it harder and harder to focus. You’re emitting warmth next to him and he is constantly overly conscious of every accident of your arms touching. The more he thinks about it, the more frequent the accidents get until you can stand it no longer and take half a step away. You’re trying to be discreet about it but you both notice the light step as well as if you had just jumped from the ship to avoid touching him.

In any case, it doesn’t help. The heavy mood only amplifies as it bounces back and forth between you and there has to be something you can say or do. Now.

“How does it work then? Can you touch any object and see its past?” you ask finally when your pulse has calmed down from the scare of Cal’s psychometry surprise seizure.

Cal has to collect his thoughts before answering. “Well, all things give off an emanation but that… concentration of the Force has to be strong enough for me to read.” He pauses and straightens up to look at you. “It’s… uhh, it’s hard to explain really.” It’s challenging to finish the thought since you’re still standing way too close and making him stutter in the process.

He looks unbelievably adorable and you throw all caution to the wind. He deserves to feel so abashed after the heart attack he gave you.

“So this…” You lightly take Cal’s free hand and press it against your chest between your collar bones. “Gives you nothing?”

His fingertips touch your neck, slightly calloused and unsure. Maybe even shaking. A rush of red rises to his cheeks and chills run down your spine.

“It doesn’t work on living beings,” Cal mumbles and looks away, utterly flustered.

A slightly snide, teasing smile rises to your lips. He seems so flummoxed. “I meant the necklace.”

His fingers curl around the small pearl and his brow furrows slightly. The touch is cool, careful in staying appropriate and almost makes you regret your impetuous flirting attempt. Your lousy shot at doing _something_ to the heavy atmosphere, while getting back at him is backfiring. The fond and tender feeling just grows from the spot he brushed on your neck.

Cal closes his eyes and deftly ignores the warmth you radiate. He makes sure his fingers don’t touch your skin anymore. They’re tingling enough already. He focuses only on the Force.

Your necklace doesn’t spark any specific emotions. In truth, it feels somewhat indifferent to Cal in relation you. He sees it through a mirror, through your eyes and small wave of complacency, _your_ emotion of complacency, fills him for a moment. It’s soothingly simple. He is relieved to notice how the borrowed feeling sways the flush on his cheeks and clears his head.

“It’s quite new. You bought it ‘cause you thought it was pretty,” Cal says softly. He lets go of the necklace and his hand drops. He backs away, taking purchase from the workstation.

You give him a crooked half-smile. “Makes me sound so vain,” you murmur.

He smiles back at you. “It _is_ pretty–”

BD-1 decides to shower you with the blue scanning beam and you both swing around to look at the abrupt interruption, sternly reminded by the droid’s presence.

“Beeop! Beeop!” He chirps and jumps around the electrosword that still lies broken on the table – a kind notion to continue what you were supposed to do before the whole flirting charade began.

And not a moment later Cere appears on the doorway to ask are you two hungry. You can’t help but wonder did BD interrupt you on purpose while something strongly related to shame burns in your throat and makes it hard to face Cal’s gaze.


	4. // 04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a time and place for pining but first you need to save the Wookiees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like twice longer than the previous chapters but I hope it makes up for the wait.

**Your heart wrenches in the most distressing way.**

Listening to Saw Gerrera explain what is going on; the Wookiees enslaved, the planet being harvested and destroyed by the Empire… There has to be a way you can help.

On Zeffo Cal found out that the next step of Cordova’s path lies on Kashyyyk, so that’s where you headed next. After a brash jump from the flying Mantis, hijacking a walker and helping the rebels and Gerrera’s Partisans to clear the area, anyone could settle for enough adventure. But Cal still wants to help.

And so do you.

“Wooaaah, wait a minute, hold on, wait a minute.” Greez motions everyone to stop speaking. He is not too convinced it’s a good idea to participate in some freedom fighting. “The Mantis works wonders, I mean it’s a great ship, excellent pilot, but…”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“It is _not_ built for close support,” he ends decisively.

“We’ll stay here and monitor Imperial transmissions,” Cere calms him, “With a bit of luck we’ll intercept any distress calls.”

“’Preciate it,” Saw nods and turns to Cal: “My lieutenants and I will scout ahead to prepare the attack. Join us when you’re ready.”

As Saw leaves with most of his troops, Cal turns to look at the rest of your crew. His expression is filled with determination, defiance even. Nothing is going to stop him and he is daring you to try.

“You hair is still wet,” you quip. You notice the curve of your lips is a tad too relieved and Cal is _absurdly_ good at pulling off the wet poncho look.

The mood has been slightly… careful between you since the necklace episode. You regret ever letting it happen since now you’re hyperaware of Cal’s presence at all times and weigh the meaning behind every look. It’s an unexpected but not unwelcome pastime, and you shouldn’t consider him in _that_ way but you just do. Cal, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be effect by those same troubles at all. It’s frustrating because you feel like you’re losing in your own game, which is _not_ supposed to be a game but somehow it still is.

Urgh.

“It’s good to see you too,” Cal says and chuckles. “Glad you’re alright.”

“This place is a dump,” Greez mutters and glowers at the overgrown nature around the landing zone. It must be horrible for him.

“Your plan worked. And now you want to follow Saw?” Cere asks cautiously and folds her arms on her chest, not entirely approving of her young mentee’s intentions.

“What do you think of his plan?” Cal returns.

“He might win this fight with our help, but in the long run… I don’t know,” you say in thought. You sigh and look around the destroyed forest. The smell of smoke and burning metal prickles in your nostrils. You’re starting to get desperate for fresh or even filtered air.

“I doubt the freedom for the Wookiees is his only goal,” Cere adds in a hushed tone.

“He seems trustworthy,” Cal shrugs.

“He might prove to be, but there’s more going on here than we know,” Cere reminds him. Cal nods.

“And don’t forget the Empire fights dirty. Watch your tail in that refinery, kid,” Greez says. Is that a hint of worry you detect?

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Wait. I’m coming with you,” you say on the spur of the moment before Cal can turn to leave. There’s no way you’re sitting on your hands inside the Mantis while Cal tumbles head on into danger to save the Wookiees.

The crew pauses to stare at you.

“They’ll need all the help they can get,” you explain, “I’ll go grab my gear, hold on a minute.”

Cal doesn’t know what to say. Cere holds a sigh and Greez shakes his head. “I knew this was gonna happen one day,” he mumbles.

“Does she…” Cal starts but finds it difficult to finish the question. The last thing he wants is to doubt your competence, but he would blame himself if anything were to happen to you out there.

“She can take care of herself, I’ll admit that. You need to focus on your part, Cal,” Cere assures.

“Right.” The young Jedi still looks bemused but swallows the rest of the questions.

The two electroswords, both miraculously fixed by Cal, are waiting to get back to what they were created for. Such flashy weapons haven’t been your strong suit before but it’ll be interesting to try them. As you grab and attach them to you belt along with a blaster and its holster, an ambiguous feeling grows inside you. The decision to go with Cal wasn’t made as impulsively as you even yourself initially thought. Spending time with Cere and Cal must be affecting your sense of justice and will to act. Goddamn Jedi.

Who could’ve guessed someone with your messy past would become a freedom fighter? Definitely not you.

You silence the nagging voice whispering that you’re only doing this to impress a certain person who makes your heart race. Is this really something you’d normally do just to get back to the top of things aka your feelings? You refuse to believe that. But anyone who knew you before you met Cere, would disagree and tell you this is exactly how you always respond. They would tell you this is what you do best. You’re always the one in control and won’t lose without a fight to the death.

You inhale and puff out the air in a long sigh. The door of the Mantis swings open and the smoke-filled air hits your face again. It makes your eyes water.

You tap the blaster holster on your side. “Let’s not keep Saw waiting.”

Cere gives your posture a cursory look but settles for nodding. Greez’s eyes are wide and you realize he hasn’t _seen_ you carrying a weapon before. Just because it wasn’t in plain sight, it doesn’t mean you’d enter shady cantinas unarmed. Greez’s expression is filled with doubt and fearful respect.

“Alright.” Cal sounds wary but decides to trust Cere’s judgment.

“Be careful out there. Both of you. Coming back in one piece is still part of the plan, right?” Cere throws dryly and fights a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll bump it up on the priority list!” Cal grimaces as if he had already forgotten and you roll your eyes. “C’mon, BD!”

Greez _hmphs_ and paces up the Mantis’ ramp, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Cere follows him as you and Cal leave the landing zone. With hasty steps, you head to the direction of the sap refinery.

“So what do you know about the Partisans?” Cal asks in a low voice as you pass a few.

“Just rumors. They’ve got bounties on their heads. Preeetty pile of credits is resting between those shoulders.” Your eyes dart around the freedom fighters in the area and, honestly, they don’t look like much. Just normal people, but apparently they do know which end of the blaster goes where.

Cal looks at you dubiously, pondering whether to ask why you would know such a detail.

“That way, right?” You nod forward.

“Saw is up ahead,” one of the Partisans kindly offers directions towards a narrow clearing that leads to the refinery.

The path is anything but straight; filled with cut-down jungle to make way for elevator tracks from the landing zone to the sap refinery. The comfort of an elevator is nowhere to be seen so you’ll have to get your boots dirty. The swarm of flame beetles buzzing near the tree line is likely the least of what you’ll encounter further in. The short electroswords feel reassuring against your thighs. You grip the blaster handle and draw in a long breath, inconspicuously. It’s been some time since you had to fight anyone.

“Are you okay?” Cal asks and visibly fights himself to not urge you to return. Of course he would notice you psyching yourself up.

“Yeah. Let’s go!” you say. You jump down a ledge before he can say another word and Cal follows you after a beat.

The _thought_ of trudging the jungle floor dirt turns out to be more intolerable than actually treading it with Cal. He is helpful and considerate even in the stressful and pressing situation. The list of things you _wouldn’t_ have fun doing with him is likely as short as a rancor’s patience. And that’s another train of thought you need to crash before it reaches a finish line.

You’re jumping over endless pits, balancing over fallen tree trunks (Cal holds your hand, just in case) and finally climbing up a ramp to reach Saw Gerrera. You’re a tad out of breath when Cal reaches a hand out and pulls you up. He can certainly keep up the pace and you realize you’re dangerously starting to fall out of shape. Greez’s cooking is to blame.

“Still okay?” Cal smiles and holds you for a moment too long. His free hand falls onto your shoulder.

“Thanks. All good,” you huff and try to reach a responsive smile. Cal squeezes your shoulder in his frustratingly casual manner and you remember his touch on your neck while you should be focusing on the life or death mission ahead.

Saw Gerrera and his lieutenants are in position and you crouch to talk with them. Saw gives you an examining look before turning his attention to Cal. “Imperial sap refinery lies dead ahead.”

“What does the Empire want with tree sap?” Cal wonders and looks at the target building through the binoculars.

“Nothing good,” Saw replies.

As he starts explaining the situation and the plan, BD-1 makes a holoprojection of the area. Saw’s troops will create a distraction while Cal uses his lightsaber to rescue the enslaved Wookiees. He makes it sound so simple.

“Creating a distraction, huh? Sounds like you could use every blaster you can get,” you mark to Saw and he nods gravely.

Cal quickly turns to look at you, about to say something.

“I’m going with them,” you hurry to interrupt him.

His mouth closes, an abrupt frown flashes before it’s replaced with badly concealed worry. He knows it’s the best call in the situation.

“Beep?” BD-1 tilts his head.

“Alright. Be careful out there,” Cal says, nodding.

“You too.” You hold eye contact for a moment, but at the same time wonder what that look on his face means.

Cal and BD get on their way down when you follow the Partisans to the main entrance. Saw was right about the Imperial troopers having spread themselves too thin. The amount of resistance you face is almost ridiculous in the face of the battle-hardened Partisans. Saw Gerrera fits out to be the fiercest of them, making you wonder how far he is capable of going. The precision and rage he fights with is unmatched and sparks inspiration in his troops. You no longer wonder why they’re considered radicals by the Empire.

After the first battle, Saw asks you to play it safe in a passing comment. You don’t want to overthink his request or what he believes is between you and Cal, so you continue shooting at the Stormtroopers. The Partisans are counting their marks and the notion makes you feel uneasy. You try not to listen to their banter.

After the third earth-shaking explosion, Cal can no longer resist the urge to ask how you’re doing. Your wrist comm buzzes.

_“Doing okay there?”_ The transmission catches a lot of background noise and it sounds like _someone_ isn’t playing it safe.

You roll to take cover behind a ledge just when a blaster bolt flies over your head. One of the Partisans fighting next to you gets the Stormtrooper.

“A little busy… Don’t you have a job to do?” you huff into the comm device.

Cal chuckles. _“I’m almost to the prison now. Just wanted to make sure you’re still safe.”_

Safe is a very relative term in the situation you’re in but your stomach makes a jolt and you bite your lip. Can he not do this when you need to stay focused to avoid getting shot? Also, you’re fairly certain Cere can hear you exchange.

“You’re sweet to worry about me, but there’s really no need, Cal.”

A pause.

_“Right. Sorry, I–”_

_“At least you both are still alive in there,”_ Cere joins up the conversation. _“Imperial distress calls are going out across the planet. If you don’t get the prisoners soon…”_

_“We can do this. I promise,”_ Cal says decisively.

“See you when you’ve released the Wookiees, Cal,” you say and wait for the comm to snap but it stays silent.

A few moments later a small batch of Wookiees joins the fight, but your distraction group finds itself trapped behind a jammed door in a passageway filled with deadly blaster bolts. The rest of the prisons ahead are still closed and the Stormtroopers are gathering reinforcements. The situation is quickly going from dire to desperate.

_“Hold on, we’re gonna get you out of there!”_ Cal’s voice cracks through your wrist comm.

He is on the other side of the wall, getting closer to the control room. You can just barely see flashes of his blue lightsaber through the fire and smoke. He is fighting and you can’t help the bloat of worry that suddenly rises up your throat. No matter that you’re in a life or death situation yourself.

The Wookiee cell doors suddenly blast open and roars fill the air.

“You’ve done it!” Saw yells. “The Wookiees are free! Get to the roof!”

Cal is on the other side of the glass of the control room, seemingly unharmed. He makes a small wave at you and BD stretches up to look over his head. You form them a thank you on your lips and dart after the Partisans.

By the time Cal gets to the roof, all hell is on the loose. Stormtroopers carrying flamethrowers get up close and personal with the freedom fighters. They get support fire from the upper roof, so you have to stay behind a cover but not moving means the flames will reach you any moment. Unless you deal with the blaster bolts first, you won’t have a chance. Something about the fire and the frying pan crosses your mind.

You yell at the couple nearest Partisans to focus on the enemies firing from up and take out your electroswords. They whirr to life and electric blue cracks around both rods. The handles feel familiar but weird in your hands. It’s been a while. You suppress the disabling feeling of the adrenaline and look for an opening.

When the Flame trooper retreats to reload, you close in.

Cal is running towards the same enemy, but it’s clear that you’ll reach the target first. He barely breaths and time slows as he watches you narrowly slide underneath the angry blaze and make a slicing motion at the trooper’s knees. The shower of flames turns towards the sky when the trooper starts falling and ends abruptly when the electrosword in your right hand slashes again across his chest. It’s over so fast that your brain catches up to speed when the trooper is already lying on the ground.

Cal changes his direction and leaps onto the next Flame trooper, mind void of anything but the ongoing fight and the simple thought that he was a fool to be worried about you. You’re clearly no stranger to a melee weapon.

The area is almost cleared when Imperial support arrives.

“Cal, look!” you scream and point into the air.

Cal is just finishing the last Flame trooper. He brutally kicks the enemy down and drives his lightsaber through the armor’s chest piece. He looks up, mouth hanging open in surprise.

An AT-ST walker lands with a loud thump.

“Jedi! We don’t have the firepower to breach its hull!” Saw yells. He is fighting on the upper roof which is almost cleared out of enemy troopers. The handful of the Partisans left standing, and the freed Wookiees, look for cover. Normal blaster bolts won’t make even a dent on the walker.

“We’re on it!” Cal shouts.

“Be-beep!” BD-1 confirms and tightens his grip of Cal’s back.

Cal searches and catches your gaze but doesn’t need to tell you to stay back. Your feet are already pointed at the poor shelter the nearby doorway offers. You’re going to sit this one out and focus on the rest of the troopers on rooftops so the Jedi can handle the walker.

The AT-ST sows grenades to where Cal stood just seconds ago. His lightsaber cuts red, molten streaks on the robotic legs, breaching closer to the inevitable moment when the walker will topple down. He manages to land an attack after another – all the while parrying incoming blaster fire and dodging disabling electric fields and grenade drops.

With the weapon in hand, Cal is like another person. Brutal, efficient. You’ve seen enough to fully appreciate his legwork and fluid movements in close combat. He is both raw and calculated in his attacks and you wish the troopers were gone already so you could just fully commit to staring.

You’ve never seen a Jedi fight before. Actually, you’ve never even _met_ a Jedi before. The stories that are whispered around the galaxy do no justice to seeing the real deal hand out blows. It makes you wonder.

Cal doesn’t waste time in getting rid of the walker and the fight is over before the Partisans have the chance to watch.

Loud cheers erupt in the air. Everyone crowds around the Jedi and suddenly you feel abashed at approaching him – the new hero of the cause. Your steps heading towards Cal slow down. Saw Gerrera gets up on a platform to hold an inspirational speech:

“Everyone! These have been hard years. We’ve lost comrades, friends, family… to the Empire.” He pauses. “Dark times. And yet the fire… still burns. _Hope_ … still burns. The Jedi are not yet lost.”

All eyes turn to Cal. Saw knows how tight the situation was. If it wasn’t for Cal, none of you would be there alive.

“We are not yet lost. Kashyyyk is not yet lost! For the cause!”

Everyone cheers. Cal looks confused but pleased from the attention. They pat his back and smile, most relieved, some awe-inspired. Words of thanks are said loud and clear. Two of the Partisans who fought beside you come to thank you for the help. You mumble that you didn’t do it to gather gratefulness.

You want to go to Cal but Saw reaches him first. They talk for a while next to the Partisans’ transport ship. Cal can feel your gaze on him and wants to wrap up the conversation quickly. Saw’s offer to join the fight is appreciated but Cal still has his own mission to finish. The mission of the Mantis crew. The mission you’re a part of.

He still hasn’t had the chance to check on you after the fight. If Saw notices how Cal’s attention keeps drawing to your presence, he says nothing. Cal is still too high on the adrenaline to care. He would take up another walker in an instant if it meant he could go and ask are you hurt. He feels an urgent need that pulls him towards you. He knows you’re alright but he needs to make sure with his own eyes, undisturbed.

While waiting for Cal to finish his conversation, you approach Mari Kosan and one of the freed Wookiees, Commander Choyyssyk.

The Wookiee Commander promises you something but you understand only a few things in Shyriiwook, which he kindly uses for clarity, so you have to look to Mari for translation. The things you _would_ understand in Wookieespeak are very… rude in Galactic Basic: A lot of things concerning one’s ancestors and their defining traits.

“Choyyssyk says he’ll do whatever he can to find Tarfful and vouch for you,” Mari translates.

You nod gratefully. “Thank you. I’ll let Cal know.” You glance at the Jedi still exchanging words with Saw.

“Could take some time because they’re always on the move. We’ll be in touch with your ship,” Mari continues.

Choyyssyk agrees and that much you can understand. He apologizes and leaves to be with his comrades who were also imprisoned. Your heart goes out to the Wookiees. They’ve been through something you don’t think you could survive.

You’re just about to ask Mari what the Partisans will do now, when Cal calls your name and runs over to join you.

“You, you’re–” He struggles to find the words, looking rattled but happy.

“A rebel? I guess I am,” you crack to finish the sentence in case Cal is about to comment your fighting style. The less attention your backstabbing methods gain the better.

A rebel is not what Cal meant but the bloat of worry erupts into a fit of light laughter. He takes your hand from mid-air and squeezes it gently.

Your mouth forms an o. It’s hard to conceal your surprise and delight. Your hands lower down and for a moment you feel like you’re about to burst. From holding a guy’s hand. _You._

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Cal murmurs solemnly. He has that same look in his eyes as when you parted at the refinery entrance.

“You too, Cal. I’m glad you’re in one piece,” you reply in a hushed tone.

Mari clears her throat and awkwardly moves her weight from one foot to another. You pay her no mind but a hint of pink flushes right across Cal’s freckles.

“We should head back to the Mantis. Greez is probably freaking out,” he says and chuckles again. He lets go of you, leaving your fingers tingling pleasantly.

You huff, amused at the thought of Greez stuck in the middle of wild nature and agree: “Yes. Let’s.”

Cal turns to Mari and a look passes his face which hints that he didn’t realize she was standing with you and _maybe_ he should’ve exercised more caution and self-control – though he doesn’t want to think about the reason why. So what if he is happy to see you survived unharmed? The uneasy feeling in his chest doesn’t agree.

“Thank you, both of you,” Mari says.

“You guys stay safe. Good luck out here,” Cal wishes.

“Will do. For the cause.” Mari raises her fist across her heart just like Saw Gerrera earlier.

Part of you hopes the elevator was still out of order since the journey back to the Mantis is way too short. Going out there to help the Wookiees with Cal was a good decision and you’re happy, but also feel an inkling; a stirring inside your chest that makes you nervous to be alone with him in the large elevator. You don’t talk. Only smile whenever your gazes cross and each time your heart makes a leap.

When the elevator stops, you’re fully aware of how much in trouble you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. This story is also posted on my tumblr [creative-frequency.tumblr.com/](https://creative-frequency.tumblr.com/)


	5. // 05

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks & getting handsy after Kashyyyk. Two idiots being dumb in the company of each other. Someone just kick their asses already.

**“What did you say we’re doing here again, Cere? On this… Bogano?”**

You peer outside the Mantis’ windows at the grass and sunshine outside. The planet doesn’t seem to have much in terms of infrastructure; just a few well-established huts getting bleached in the sun. It looks like a planet with nothing in the middle of nowhere but Cere always has her reasons.

The new addition to your group and the one you have to thank for the luxuries of traveling in relative solitude turns in the pilot’s chair and flashes a cheesy grin. He is the first Latero you’ve ever met face to face and he seems okay.

“It’s best if you both sit down.” Cere motions towards the dining table and you trade equally baffled looks with Greez the pilot.

“Did something happen?” you ask carefully and pull a chair back.

“Uh. No.” Cere struggles to find the words. Her elbows lay on the table, fingertips occasionally touching, about to intertwine and then retreat. “No. Not recently, if that’s what you mean.”

She clears her throat and you and Greez strain your hearing, gently motioning her to continue.

“I have a plan.” Cere’s serious look sails from you to the new pilot. “And you probably won’t like it.”

“Oh?” you say, surprised but pleased. “What for?”

“Hang on. Is this something I really need to hear? ‘Cause I kind of thought the less I know…” Greez interrupts by waving one of his four hands.

Cere huffs. “I’ll tell you as little as you need to go with, Captain.”

“Alright. Good, good,” Greez approves and eases back into the chair.

You bite your lip, sternly watching every micro-expression going through Cere’s features. She’s not one to share anything more than you absolutely need to know. It’s frustrating, but you’ve learned to trust her. You just wish she would trust you.

Cere takes in a deep breath and says: “We are going to find a Jedi.”

//

You survived Kashyyyk, all according to the plan and with minimal injuries, even. The mood aboard the Mantis is relieved but also dejected since you couldn’t find the Wookiee chieftain. Cal is certain that Mari Kosan and Choyyssyk will come through and find Tarfful.

The crew agrees to have a breather before the next destination: another tomb on Zeffo. When you were returning from the refinery, Cere picked up an Imperial transmission, hinting that the bad guys are close to finding another tomb on Zeffo. While Greez isn’t happy about it, Cal stays true to his character, ever the optimist. The Imperials are offering the next step of Cordova’s path on a silver platter.

There’s also the fact that the only other clue leads to Dathomir and no one wants to go there unless it’s the only option left.

But first, you have to lick your minor wounds from Kashyyyk and relax. Cal has been resting in one of the cabins and he missed the delicious dinner Greez whipped up. Out of the goodness of your heart and concern, you decide to bring the Jedi something to eat.

Heart beating suspiciously fast, you rap your knuckles on the metal plating. “Cal? I’m coming in.”

You press the door open while balancing the tray on one hand.

Cal sits on the bed, just caught in the middle of a stretch, arms in the air and hair ruffled. He bends his neck to both sides and settles on looking at you attentively. There’s a cooler patch next to him and an opened pack of bacta gel strips.

“What’s that?” Your brows furrow and Cal turns into the paragon of innocence. BD-1 twirls approvingly at you for arriving just in time.

You place the tray on the small stand next to the bed and plant your hands on your hips. “And where are you hurt?”

“I’m not… hurt.” Cal grimaces like child caught red-handed at the cookie jar. At least he is not visibly bleeding.

“Really?” you ask slowly, eyes narrowing.

BD-1 wastes no time in jumping onto Cal and kicking his left shoulder blade. “Bop!”

“OW! Hey!” Cal chases the droid away and hunches forward, failing miserably at hiding the pain.

“Let me see,” you say in the most commanding tone you’re able to muster. BD hides behind you, chirping in agreement.

Cal hesitates. His ears feel hot. He can think of a thousand excuses but knows that he really has no choice but to obey.

“C’mon. Off with the poncho. The shirt’s gotta go too,” you add when he begrudgingly begins undressing.

The initial thought at seeing Cal’s bare, bruised chest is definitely not _oh no he’s hurt_. BD showers the blue scanning light on Cal’s injuries and you’re so glad you’re allowed to stare because it would be hard not to.

You’ve seen shirtless, extremely fit men before too, but this is _Cal kriffing Kestis_ , the sweet, kind Jedi and you gave him no permission to look so… preposterously hot. Sternly reminding yourself now is not the time for wanting to lick his pecks doesn’t really help and before long you feel the heat on your cheeks mirroring his. Why did you want him to undress again?

“Your back is hurt, right? Turn around,” you hear someone say in your voice and BD twitters again in agreement. It’s easier to breathe when the risk of meeting Cal’s gaze is minimized as he faces the wall.

Considering the amount of fighting he had to do on Kashyyyk, you’re surprised that he isn’t in in worse shape. Some smaller bruises have turned towards a shade of violet, but unlike on the other side, there are no larger ones. You frown as you think someone probably kicked him in the chest.

You carefully sit down by the bedside. “Left side?” you utter as a warning that you’re about to touch him.

Cal nods but still slightly lurches forward under your fingertips. “Y-yeah, I think that happened when the Purge trooper knocked me down…”

You sigh heavily but abstain from commentary. You gently feel out the area BD kicked to check that nothing is dislocated or torn. Because Cal is turned to face the wall, you can’t see the ravaging blush that expands out to the tip of his ears. His skin feels hot and his muscles tense. The bacta gel might help with the pain but there are more traditional ways to ease his suffering too. Ways in which you pride yourself to be an expert.

“Lie down,” you urge him softly.

Cal gives you a hesitant look over his shoulder, eyes wide like a porg’s, but swallows his protests. He lies down onto his stomach and you inch closer, leaning over his back. He has trouble finding a place for his arms and head, partly wanting to look bashfully away and partly wanting to seek eye contact because the situation feels new and intimate. You have to resist the itch to tease the poor guy because settling astride on his back definitely crosses your dirty mind.

“What’re you doing?” Cal asks in a raspy tone.

Seeing his reddened cheeks is thrilling and brings out the worst, sadistic parts of you in the form of a crooked smile. He can be so innocent.

“Sorry, my hands might be a little cold…” You place both palms on Cal’s back and gently begin massaging the largest muscles. He needs a moment to adjust to even start thinking about relaxing.

“It’s okay… Do you think I need a stim?” he asks nervously. You shift closer to reach better so that your bodies are touching.

“Well, I don’t think anything’s broken but you’re stiff like a protocol droid,” you say and try to steer clear of any seduction in your tone.

You press your thumb under Cal’s left shoulder blade and feel him go rigid.

“Relax,” you murmur.

You’re a slight too gentle in the motions but deem it best for both of you to hold back. The silence starts growing heavier, especially since Cal can’t help the low grunts and huffs in sync with your hands. The sounds he makes involuntarily are making you quiver despite how much you try not to hear them. Your hands are moving on their own and you wish you would have to focus more on what you’re doing instead of what he is doing.

“What was it like on Bracca?” you ask quietly to fill the silence.

Cal hums to have more time to think. Looking back at that chapter of his life hurts but there are also good moments, happy moments. However, he isn’t ready to open those memories yet. The pain of loss and trauma weighs too heavy.

You’re about to pull the question back just when he starts talking.

“It was survival. Every day,” Cal says.

You wait for him to continue while trying to soften another knot in his back.

“I kept telling myself: Whatever you do, _don’t reach within_. Trust no one,” he recites like a mantra. The tone is lighthearted, conversing one, but you can feel the underlying hurt.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you hum. BD-1 makes a sad noise.

“What about you? What did you do before this?” Cal asks and waves his wrist nonchalantly.

You pause your motions to take a deep breath. There’s no sense in trying to hide what you were since it’s only a matter of time when Cal either guesses or goes to Cere.

“This won’t improve your opinion of me,” you say quietly and continue onto massaging his shoulders.

“What do you mean?” Cal asks, confused and alarmed.

You swallow. “I was in this clan… or rather, a crime syndicate. The Kalari.”

Cal jolts.

“They took me in when I was still a child, to train me. It’s really common among the clans. The best way to mold the most loyal soldiers.” You need a moment to figure out how to form the thought. “I killed my first mark when I was sixteen.”

“First mark… So wait, you were _an assassin_?” Cal yelps.

So much suddenly starts making sense to him that you can practically see the gears turning in his head. You put more effort into the motions of your hands to avoid replying. Cal tries to squirm in order to turn to look at you.

“Stay still. Yes and I’m not proud of that,” you whip out the commanding tone and he settles.

“Thank you for telling me.” He sounds somber.

“Yeah, well. That’s about it on my past,” you say after a few moments of silence and stop trying to move your palms over Cal’s skin. “I… I hope you won’t think worse of me now that you know.”

“I could never think badly about you.” He doesn’t even hesitate putting the words out there and you feel ridiculously relieved.

You realize it’s the first time you’ve ever told anyone what you just told him – voluntarily and hoping it won’t affect your relationship.

Cal turns slightly around to see are you finished with the massage and when you don’t react, he sits up and pulls his legs closer to him.

“Thanks, Cal,” you say quietly and muster a smile to which he responds with his own. Your pulse has been miraculously steady so far despite the situation, but when Cal smiles so genuinely, you’re having difficulties at remembering your own name. He holds your gaze and you quickly lose the reason to be glad about your normal heart rate and non-shaking hands.

“Our pasts don’t define us. I’ve learned that… and I’m glad you’re here,” he says softly.

The smile on his lips is so calm and inviting and you just wish you could possess a fraction of that serenity and confidence. Why isn’t he affected by the tender feeling in your stomach like you are? Does nothing move this guy beyond the blush when you tease him? Is it a Jedi thing or just Cal’s character? The moment things take a turn to heartfelt and genuine, you’re thrown into the deep end of the pool only to find out someone changed the rules on how to swim. Maybe you’re overthinking whatever is going on between you.

You see how your hand rests on the covers and how Cal glances at it, starts moving and you already feel his fingers ghosting over yours. You can’t take it anymore. Snatching the hand back, you dart up as from a whiplash. Your heart is again running a mile a minute and you think you’re going to faint any moment now. This is exactly the kind of heady you can’t handle. _Too sweet_.

If you let the stupid, attractive Jedi take your hand one more goddamn time, you won’t be able to face the consequences.

You grab Cal’s shirt and throw it at his face. He catches it with ease but has to lean to the side to hold the line of sight to your face.

“You can dress now!” you yelp, turn on your feet and narrowly avoid tripping on a tool box on the floor.

“Huh? Where are you going?” Cal questions, dumbfound by your sudden change in demeanor.

“Bop bop?” BD chirps in tandem with his surprise.

“Uhh.” You try to think fast. “To… get you some more food.”

The door opens so slowly that you count seconds until you’re out of the cabin.

“Bo-boop.” BD-1 tilts his head after you.

“What do you mean I need it,” Cal huffs in annoyance and pulls the shirt back on.

His whole body feels hot in an uncomfortable and unfamiliar way. The soft marks your fingers left on his back are burning and the more he thinks about it, the hotter he feels. For the life of him, he can’t understand what he said or did to make you run like that but forbidden disappointment nags his insides. Getting carried away in your company is dangerously easy and Cal quietly decides he needs to do better.


End file.
